


Mass Effect: Virgo

by SigmaDoesRoleplay



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, Graphic Description, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigmaDoesRoleplay/pseuds/SigmaDoesRoleplay
Summary: 'So, we're on the SR-IV: Constantinople on a voyage from the rebuilt Earth; to a place called the Virgo Nebula. And of course, Cerberus is dogging our tail. Because it's Cerberus.'2190. Shepard's death was heavily mourned by the earliest crew of the SSV Normandy. The offspring of Liara T'Soni and Shepard was set as a 'heir,' for lack of a better word, to a new line of space-vessel.





	Mass Effect: Virgo

_2190\. Shepard's death was heavily mourned by the earliest crew of the SSV Normandy. The offspring of Liara T'Soni and Shepard was set as a 'heir,' for lack of a better word, to a new line of space-vessel._

_This Horizon-shuttle Normandy class vessel was dubbed the SR-IV: Constantinople. Based on the unlicensed holo-prints designed by Commander Shepard and her crew during the Collector Infestation War; containing Thanix Magnetic-Hydrodynamic Weapons, augmented with two twin-retractable batteries under the hull. More so, Cyclonic Barrier Technology augments the kinetic-barriers overlaying the armour of the ship. All in all, the Systems Alliance have honored Shepard and Doctor T'Soni's memory with the vessel.._

000

It would be good to finally be back on a ship. They’d become a rare, limited resource after the war with the reapers, and it was a privilege now to be chosen to go on one for any reason. Most were tied up ferrying resources to and from the various planets, trying to fix everything, and now it was time to move beyond repair and begin exploring once more. And this, well, this was going to be beyond a privilege. To be on the SR-IV: Constantinople was, in a word, a gift. She was going to be leading the allied races to a new life, a new hope. Finally, Malia T’Varra was going to leave Earth once and for all.

Well, after she took care of this patient. She’d been alerted that someone was going to be needing help, and who better to go to than the soon-to-be-doctor of the ship the injured party would be stationed on? A good time to build a doctor-patient relationship, right? The woman sighed, leaning against the countertop and gazing into the mirror she’d had installed in her temporary office. The asari maiden staring back at her was exhausted, the endless hours of study and work beginning at wear her down. But soon, soon all of the hard work would pay off. “You’ve got this,” she muttered to herself. Then she took a deep breath, turning to the door to await her patient.

A seemingly tall figure met Malia's gaze, shrouded in a battered set of indigo Defender armour; sent as a parting gift to the Virgo Initiative from the team leaving for the Golden-Worlds. Upon the female figure's head was a carapace, the viewport tinted a deep ebony hue. T'Varra's omni-tool would recognize the figure as a certain Allison Miles. A human soldier, posted on the Constantinople after the success of her role in the Reaper War.

"Mmh," Miles let out a pained grunt as their view tilted up to meet the asari, "You're here. Too bad, I was having fun feeling like a sunburnt, bruised potato." She let out a quiet chuckle at that, before laying back down on the 'bed' that Effort-Station Phoenix gladly lent to her. It was nothing compared to actually being at home, she thought. Allison shook those thoughts aside; remembering the training very literally beat into her to stay strong even in the face of the worst torment.

Malia smirked as Allison showed up, finally. She had opened her mouth to order the woman to lay back, but she was already doing so. The omni-tool glowed on her arm as she pulled it up to scan the woman. Truth be told she had no idea why Allison was being brought in. “So,” she said, allowing the technology to scan over the woman’s body, searching for any and all issues that might be the cause of her needed medical assistance, “what brings you in today?” She supposed the scan would tell her soon enough, but talking to a patient often helped calm there. Even if Allison didn’t need calming, it helped calm _Malia._

Allison let out a sigh. She wasn't expecting Malia to not entirely know the situation, "Cerberus got me, doc." She pressed into the side of her armour, unlocking the chassis to let the plating simply fall right off her chest. Underneath the overbearing vestment, the human soldier wore a whitish tank-top, soaked in a crimson fluid; presumably blood. Aside from the giant tears within the garment,  there were visible orange marks, scorched deep within Miles' skin. There were a variety of these, so it was most likely the M-22 Eviscerator scattergun that did the deed; a highlight of the Cerberus armoury.

"Think you can do anything, doc?" Allison asked, in an idle form of perhaps morbid curiosity. Miles liked to know if the medical advisors on a new transfer were competent. Or at least, if they thought they were.

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to die,” Malia said somberly, looking at the wounds with a slight frown on her face. “It’s absolutely terrible, and there’s nothing I can do… except,” she turned, grabbing the medi-gel from the counter behind her. She held it up for the soldier to see, smiling slightly to show that she had been teasing.

“I can probably do something with this.” She pulled the shirt up slightly, exposing the wounded area better. It looked nasty, but scorching by the Cerberus weapons tended to cauterize themselves. They might leave scars, but it was possible that they wouldn’t, too. Usually scarring only happened if the soldier had dallied about before getting help. She began to apply it to the wound, the gel heaped generously on her fingers. “Most of the time the medigel is delivered through your omni-tool,” she said, “but in bad cases it can be applied directly to the wound. It’s a miracle, this stuff. Heal wounds, headaches, even menstrual cramps if the situation is dire enough.” The gel had a cooling effect on the wounds, making the burning, aching sense go away. “How’s it feeling?” she asked the woman, pulling her hand away to let the woman feel for herself.

As the glistening red package came into view, Allison's expression contorted into a mixture of anger and confusion, before she opted to let out an exasperated sigh, "Almost gave me a heart attack, doc." She allowed the clothing to be pulled up slightly, just enough so that the rather nasty expulsions were revealed.

"It's a god-damned life-saver," Allison let out a quiet hiss as the burning sensation was replaced by a pleasant, icy cool feeling. "I couldn't tell you how many times this shit's saved me in the field." A grin rested upon Miles' features as she glanced directly at the asari. With her carapace removed, Malia could see the variety of marks lining the soldier's features. What appeared to be the not-so-delicate outline of a Varren bite on her neck, scarred over, a relatively new mark; this one had the cause of a KA-BAR combat-knife. Most likely mercs. Her eyes were an icy blue colour, her hair donning a rather bright blonde complexion; draped over her skin which was rather pale.

Allison Miles was a scarred mess. Obviously this wasn’t her first rodeo, or her second, and likely not even her third. “You look like you’ve been through Hell,” Malia said, putting the medi-gel away as it had done its part for the healing process. “Luckily for you, medi-gel is about all you need for a wound like that. Doctors these days are here more for the radiation, the loss of limbs, babies. You know, stuff that slapping gel on it won’t quite fix so easily.”

The pale asari smiled, washing the gel from her fingers at the sink on the countertop before drying her hands off. “And for looking good and having cool names. Dr. T’Varra. Makes it sound like I’m important, doesn’t it?” But she wasn’t. Doctors had been made all but redundant by technology. She turned back to the woman on the table. “So, when do we ship out? Do you know? Sooner rather than later, I hope. I don’t much like staying in one place, especially not Earth. No offense.” She much preferred the other planets to this hell-hole.

Miles was about to answer that question when a pinging came over the intercom system above the duo, which alerted them to the presence of an approaching vessel.

The SR4 Constantinople swept into view, carried by multiple crane-like arms. It's whitish-grey chassis was outlined by a couple turquoise stripes upon the side of the vessel, "Looks like she's already here.." A grin came upon Miles' features, just barely visible. "We should head out there, T'Soni and Paccadah will want to make a speech. I'll bet my arm on it." As Miles went to stand up, she let out a torrent of swears, stumbling slightly on her path.

Officer Ria T'Soni and Major Oborek Paccadah were the two main officers commissioning for the Virgo Initiative. Respect was given to Ria from her relation to the war-hero. Her daughter, in fact. She was obviously an Asari, while Paccadah was of batarian heritage. His skin was a mottled brown-ish grey; with a couple cracked horns layed pointed against his skull. The four eyes had a purple-black outline around them.

The ship was certainly impressive. Everything she’d hoped it would be, honestly. How long had it been since she’d looked at a ship and known that she would get to be on it? A long-ass time, that was all she knew. Malia had been born and raised on Earth, and had always wanted to go off world. She was tired of living on this boring planet, especially when her mothers had told her about Thessia. She was young for an asari, only about 50-some years, but those 50 years had been spent trying to grow up in a post-war culture. Everything was different than the stories her mothers had told her. Now she was finally getting her chance to leave Earth behind.

“So, I can finally leave the milky way,” Malia said, her voice soft, and she beheld the two that Miles had said would want to make a speech. Who were they? She had to admit to herslef that she was rather underprepared for this trip. She’d read a few of the dossiers about her crewmates, but she barely remembered any of them. Her attention was focused on medicine, not… people. “Who are they?” she asked sheepishly.

"Ria is.." Allison paused for a moment, considering her words carefully. "She's young, all things considered. You heard of Doctor T'Soni, the one that led the team on Mars for the prothean archives? She's her daughter." Miles turned back towards the docking-bay window, "and now she's our Commander. Can't say I had any better candidates in mind, but.. I can only say the girl could use some more.. experience." Miles ushered Malia forward, walking out towards the bay.

The two walked as spoke, "Paccadah's a crazy bastard. I served under him during our runs out in the Terminus Systems. Made the calls the rest of the squad would rather leave un-filled." "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat, soldier." Miles let out a laugh, knowing the approaching figure's exact identity, "Oborek, glad you finally decided to show up this morning." "What can I say, needed to get my second cup of coffee, light a cig. You know the drill." The major turned to Doctor T'Varra, "And who's this?"

Well, Malia wasn’t one to talk about lack of experience, being what her people would still consider a child. 70 years was nothing to thumb your nose at, but that was what the asari did anyways. She knew more than most humans ever dreamed about, and would continue to gain knowledge throughout her entire 1000-year-long life, and yet even the humans she met looked at her and thought of her as a child. Ridiculous. She wondered how old the commander was, and made it her mission to get closer to the woman.

Her eyes then went to the batarian, an age-old hate filling her, and while she knew the reason for the hate she also knew that it was ridiculous. Batarians were an aggressive, anti-social race, but as with all races during the cataclysm they had been forced to become involved with the other allied races. So the dislike she felt for the batarian wasn’t rational, wasn’t moral. And she would certainly have to get over it, and quickly.

That’s the childishness that the other asari see in you, she realized with chagrin. She was over 70, but even now she found herself overwhelmed by her emotions. That was her truest fault. “My name is Dr. Malia T’Varra,” she said, bowing her head quickly towards the major. She tried to hide her warring emotions and focus only on her professionalism. “I’m to be the ship’s medic.”

"Well, we'll certainly appreciate the asset." Oborek nodded his head slightly, his inky eyes searching across the asari's pale skin. "You two should get aboard. Don't want to miss the Commander's speech; that'd be a complete nightmare." Paccadah didn't waste a second, not bothering to wait for an answer before walking away with purpose. The docking-bay was crowded with citizens and soldiers alike, all entering and exiting the shuttles packing the docking-bay.

Allison gave T'Varra's arm a quick, teasing shove, "Ready for an adventure?"


End file.
